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The cooler weather was something that was not a surprise to Ylva. She had lived through enough seasons to know what to expect; even as strange as this land was, she had no reason to think that it would be any different. In all truthfulness, the idea doesn’t even cross her mind as she scouts ahead, mostly out of curiosity than anything else. It’s easy enough, then, for her to make a deal with herself.
If there’s nothing here to note, she can turn back. She knows how to follow her own scent, even through the snow.
As soon as the thought crosses her mind, though, Ylva catches scent of something else. Something sweeter and that brings memories of warmer weather with it. It’s fleeting, there just long enough to make her brows furrow, and were it not for the noise that it brought with it she would have brushed it off as a trick of the mind. They’re just as distant, too, but she swears on the Mother that she can hear birdsong- a totally different type of birdsong than what she would be expecting, at that.
It’s more than enough to make her pause, mind trying to wrap around what could possibly be happening, before she’s following the source of the sound. And as she does, the scenery changes as well, into something more befitting of Spring. She’s surrounded by wildflowers, rows and rows of them, and for the second time that day, she finds herself pausing.
If they were real, maybe she could bring some to Solvi? To Brynhild?
Before she can move to gather some, a voice calls out, and she twists to face the stranger, who looks just as lost as she did. It was safe to say that this wasn’t anything common, then.
Hello.She calls out in response, sounding a little incredulous, herself.
Raelan